What Never Was
by Blade of Justice
Summary: Madoka's wish was a beautiful, selfless thing. It saved all Puella Magi. It brought all Puella Magi hope. It brought all Puella Magi salvation. It gave all Puella Magi a way to escape their cruel fates... All except for one, anyway.


As Madoka Kaname entered the dessert shop, she was immediately struck by a wave of delicious smells that would have threatened to overtake all of her senses once upon a time. In another life, the girl would have felt almost giddy to be in the presence of such wonders, and would have then become flustered and wondered if it was okay for her to have such good food. Would she get in trouble? Was it expensive? Did she have enough for her friends? Once upon a time, indeed, all kinds of trivial things would have crossed little Madoka's mind. Right now, however, Madoka was here for a very specific reason, and that reason took away any pleasure she could have possibly gotten from the delicious things those smells implied.

It appeared as though the shop was deserted save for a lone, black haired girl. Her hair was quite short, save for a long bit that stuck straight up in the middle, and she seemed totally absorbed in eating the numerous treats that were stacked all over the table she was seated at. Madoka watched her for a few moments, simply taking the girl in. She seemed perfectly content to be sitting there and enjoying her meal, though Madoka knew this couldn't possibly be further from the truth. This girl couldn't not know that Madoka was here, not know _why_ Madoka was here. This girl herself was the entire reason she _was_ here, but... Madoka could let her finish enjoying her food. She could certainly do that much.

"Oh, you're here! It's Madoka, right? Come on, sit down! There's more than enough to go around. I would know."

Madoka blinked a few times, genuinely surprised that the girl was inviting her over so eagerly, with such a bright and happy smile on her face too. Given the girl's circumstances, Madoka would have thought that she would have wanted Madoka to stay away for as long as possible...

Madoka found herself smiling as she walked over, taking a seat across the table from the black haired girl. She knew better than to assume.

Her smile was tinged with guilt, however. Did she have the right to smile right now?

They exchanged pleasantries, though they were unnecessary. Strained, too. How was the weather? It was an endless, white void outside of this shop. How is school? It doesn't exist anymore.

Not that either of them would be attending school ever again.

"Do you like it?"

Madoka blinked rapidly. She hadn't been paying attention to the conversation, instead having become wrapped up in her own thoughts as she took small bites of the cake before her. To her surprise, the girl sitting across from her was wearing a smile. Madoka couldn't understand why she would be smiling even now, when she must know full well what was soon going to pass, but despite her reservations... Madoka found herself smiling back, nodding, as that part of her that was still just a young girl (had it only been a little while ago that she had "just" been a little girl?) let her enjoy the treat.

"It's one of the best I've ever had. I've never heard of this store before, though..."

It occurred to Madoka at that moment that she really hadn't seen such a place before. Certainly, it looked like a cake shop, but it wasn't a familiar one. It wasn't one she had ever seen before. The girl across from her smiled even more.

"'Course you haven't! It doesn't exist." The girl laughed, though for the first time since her arrival at the shop, Madoka finally got a sense from the girl that she too did know what was going on. Even so, she continued speaking, she continued talking about the restaurant and the food as though there wasn't a much greater issue at hand between the two of them. "Everything on this table? I made it."

For just a moment, the pink haired girl too was taken away from that "greater issue at hand," instead gasping as she brought a hand to her mouth.

Everything? Really?

"You really made all of this all by yourself...?" Madoka was impressed. This tasted as good as anything she'd gotten from a "professional" place, perhaps even better. The girl was clearly pleased with Madoka's reaction, as she began to push more and more things towards Madoka, her smile growing even wider as she did so. At this point, Madoka had to raise her hands. "W-Wait, Kazumi-chan, I couldn't possibly eat all of this by myself...!"

The girl's eagerness seemed to fade upon hearing her name, though in fairness, the rejection of her generosity probably didn't help the situation much either. They hadn't exchanged names, yet thanks to this... unique situation that they found themselves in, both of them knew exactly who the other person was.

"O-Oh no... I'm sorry, I didn't..." Madoka pursed her lips, her earlier guilt starting to resurface as she watched the girl — _Kazumi_ — slowly withdraw her arms back to her side of the table, a rather complacent look crossing her features. Madoka hadn't wanted to rush this... It wasn't like they were on a timer or anything like that...! "Kazumi-chan, you can take all the time you-"

The black haired girl raised her head, looking at Madoka with a suddenly forceful look. Madoka was surprised at the sudden change in the girl, but it wasn't completely unexpected. In fact, this kind of reaction was much more in line with the possible reactions she had been thinking she might encounter when she had arrived at the shop in the middle of nowhere — the shop that was the last thing left standing in the entire world that had yet to be rebuilt.

"There aren't going to be witches anymore." Her words were spoken simply. They were neither a question nor an accusation. She was simply stating a fact, but it was a fact of utmost importance as far as this particular meeting was concerned. Madoka knew that now that she had tainted the mood, so to speak, she could no longer act like things were not the way that they were.

"That's right..." Closing her eyes, Madoka nodded solemnly. That had been her wish, after all. She would take on the burden of every girl out there and save them. She would become their hope and take them away from their despair. She would make it so that there were no more witches. Opening her eyes, she let her true form briefly show through — for a split second, her eyes flickered from the color she was showing Kazumi now to a radiant gold. "There will no longer be witches in this world."

Madoka was prepared for the worst. Tears. Outrage. Denial. She had even come here expecting a fight, if it came to that.

She hadn't expected anything resembling what she got.

"Good... I'm glad. If there aren't any witches, Michiru will never feel guilty about leading everyone to become Puella Magi, because... there's nothing to feel guilty about... And if she never turns into a witch, even if she does eventually have to go with you, the others won't be able to..."

Kazumi trailed off, lowering her gaze. She had suspected, even known, from the start of this encounter, but now there was no denying it — and she wasn't even trying to. Though certainly surprised by this reaction, Madoka found herself unable to look away from the girl, and she instinctively reached across the table to cover one of Kazumi's hands in her own, giving it a gentle squeeze. She and Madoka both understood the implications here. They understood them all too well.

In a world with no witches, a person born from a witch, no matter how human that person would one day become, simply couldn't ever exist.

There was no place for Kazumi in this new world. There never would be.

"It's okay. It is."

Kazumi was looking at Madoka again. She was smiling, and despite the few tears that had managed to sneak out of her eyes, it was a genuine and honest smile. A happy smile.

"If I never existed, it means they were never in enough pain to want to make me in the first place. It means they won't go through all of that pain trying to bring her back. If they're happy..." Kazumi shook her head, raising her free hand to wipe her eyes with the back of her palm. Still smiling. Madoka's heart ached for the girl. She wanted so badly to do something for her, anything, but she knew that there just wasn't a way. This was one cake she couldn't ever have _or_ eat, let alone attempt both, even if she _was_ a goddess now. "If they're happy, then I'm happy. I want that for them, more than anything else in the world, and if they can have it, then that's all I need. That's all I want."

It wasn't right.

Madoka knew it wasn't right and she knew there was nothing, in all her newfound power, that she could do. She had made her wish, and as powerful as it had made her, she could only act within the power it had granted her.

She couldn't even take Kazumi with her into the Law of Cycles, as it would come to be called, like she could other magical girls. Whereas in the original world, Michiru Kazusa had become a witch which had then become Kazumi, as the world was to be now, rather than become a witch, Michiru would be simply taken into the Law of Cycles. The witch that would eventually become Kazumi would never exist, and both of them were technically originally Michiru. There could not be two of the same person in the world or the Law of Cycles. Even though Kazumi had eventually wished to be a human being all of her own, she was still a witch-born being first. She had to first exist as a product of another to be able to make the wish to become herself in the first place, and in this new world, such was not a possibility.

This put Madoka in a position she truly hadn't expected to encounter when she had made her own wish, hoping to save the world's Puella Magi from the despair of witches.

In this instance, Madoka was not here as savior or a beacon of hope as she was for all other Puella Magi. In this instance, Madoka was not here as the entity who would save a Puella Magi from despair.

For Kazumi, Madoka was the complete opposite.

For Kazumi, Madoka was no savior.

For Kazumi, Madoka was death.

Madoka squeezed the girl's hand once more. She couldn't even imagine what this must be like for the other girl. She had a vague understanding of what had happened, what she had been through, how she had fought so hard just to be with her friends, knowing full well what might happen to her once all was said and done — and now here was Madoka, ripping it away from her.

Was this really "hope"?

"I promise you, Kazumi-chan. I won't forget you. I won't let you go. Even if all of your friends forget, I'll..."

Kazumi shook her head.

"You can't remember what was never there." The two both knew, of course, for Madoka this was not an issue. Madoka herself had never "been there" either as far as the world was concerned. And yet... Now Kazumi was looking at Madoka, taking her hands into her own, with an almost pleading look in her eyes. "Even if it's within your power to do it, please don't remember me. If you promise me anything, anything at all, then I want you to promise to make yourself forget."

"I..." Madoka pursed her lips. She was surprised, but she understood what Kazumi wanted — why she wanted it. She was, after all, quite the special young woman. They both were. She looked at Kazumi solemnly, her eyes sad, but at the same time filled with empathy and knowing. "You're worried that remembering you might distract me. I might let the guilt get in the way of what I need to do. Someday, maybe not someday soon, it might get to me... And you would rather be completely erased than risk any chance, no matter how small, of your friends being harmed..."

Kazumi smiled sheepishly.

"I-I hope that's not rude of me to consider that... It's not like I doubt you or anything! It's, um, it's just..." She started, but Madoka shook her head, quickly stopping her.

"I would do the same thing, Kazumi-chan." Madoka offered Kazumi what she sincerely hoped was a comforting smile. Though Kazumi returned this smile, it didn't make Madoka feel even a little better about what she was going to be doing here. As Kazumi began to look like she was getting ready to leave her seat, despite the fact the table was still littered with untouched delicacies, Madoka stood. "W-Wait, there isn't a rush! You can take all the time you need..."

"I..." The girl faltered, as if she was considering the offer. It only lasted a moment, but in that moment, Madoka realized that perhaps her offer had been more cruel than kind. The inevitable would not be changing. Kazumi understood that. Though she smiled back at Madoka after her moment of thought, her smile was considerably weaker now. "I... I probably shouldn't. I don't think I would enjoy it anymore."

Madoka swallowed.

"Oh..." Now what? She had never... erased someone's existence before. Should she offer Kazumi any last words? Should she just make it quick and painless? She was at a loss. To her surprise, Kazumi took care of this for her. The girl hadn't been getting up to leave, as it turned out — she instead retreated to the kitchen. "Kazumi-chan...?"

"Just a second!"

Nodding though no one was there to see it, Madoka waited patiently. She was willing to wait however long it took for Kazumi, be it an hour or even a whole week. She could give this girl that much.

"Here we go..." After a few minutes of crashes and other odd noises coming from the kitchen, Kazumi returned, looking considerably brighter. Once again, Madoka found herself taken by how well the girl was taking this. She couldn't believe it — and she couldn't believe how awful it was that it had to happen. Kazumi, for her part, seemed more concerned with offering a box to Madoka, wearing her brightest smile yet. "Here."

"What is this?" Madoka took the box hesitantly, unsure of what to make of it. She knew it wouldn't be a trick, nor would it be some kind of bribe — Kazumi simply wasn't that sort of person. But she couldn't possibly be giving Madoka a _gift_ when she was here to...?

"It's my masterpiece. Best thing I've ever made." She was. She was giving her executioner a _gift_. Fighting back the urge to cry herself, the goddess listened dutifully to what she quickly came to realize was the girl's last request. "Even if you don't remember me — and you won't, because you promised — I want you to take that with you. Keep it safe. Once you can surround yourself with friends again... Even if it's just one... I want you to enjoy it. This cake was meant for being eaten with friends."

Madoka's throat felt dry.

"Then... Why don't you and I...?"

Kazumi shook her head, a sad smile on her face as her eyes shone brightly with a strange mixture of happiness, gratitude, and sadness, brimming with tears that would not fall.

"Don't get me wrong, I think we could have been great friends... But the only people I would want to eat that with are people I'll never see again. So please — enjoy it. Someone has to."

Madoka nodded slowly. The box was gone in a flash — it would be safe, and she would only remember to eat it with a friend. She would make sure of that.

"Kazumi-chan... Are you ready?"

The girl took a deep breath.

"Yeah... Yeah. I am. I guess this is goodbye, huh?"

Madoka resisted the urge to give the girl a hug. She wanted to hug her and hold her and never let go — but she knew that doing so would just be cruel. Anything she did now could only hurt Kazumi.

"It is."

There was a pause. Madoka wouldn't speak more — couldn't speak more. If Kazumi wanted to stop, if Kazumi wanted to eat just a little more, talk just a little more, or even cry just a little more...! Madoka would never deny her that chance...!

Yet Kazumi didn't take it. She didn't even think about taking it. She just smiled.

In her heart, the only thing she wanted now was for her friends to be happy again, even if it meant they wouldn't even know that she had ever existed. The sooner the better, as far as she was concerned.

"It was nice meeting you... Bye bye, Madoka."

Madoka closed her eyes.

"Goodbye, Kazumi-chan."

Madoka kept her eyes closed for a few moments as the very fabric of the world itself changed around her. She kept her eyes closed as things twisted and turned and disappeared and appeared, all in mere moments. She kept them closed until she didn't remember why she had closed them in the first place.

And when she opened them, it was like there was nothing ever there to close her eyes from in the first place.

After all, there never had been.

There never would be.


End file.
